


You Have A Home

by Amydiddle



Series: A Summer Out of Jersey: Years After [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Relativity Falls, Child Neglect, Child Neglect Implied, Gen, M/M, Mabel and Dipper are A+ people, childhood crush kind of dealie, fiddauthor - Freeform, not really stated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-09-12 17:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9083125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amydiddle/pseuds/Amydiddle
Summary: The twins left and now the small town of Gravity Falls will go back to normal, at least, as normal as it can be. For Fiddleford, that means taking care of himself the best he can while his father balances his jobs and barely has time to cook dinner. It should be easy to fall back into the routine but after a whole summer of affection, friendship, and battling dream demons something feels off now. Something in his gut telling him that nothing can really be as normal as it used to be.





	1. Back to Normal?

**Author's Note:**

> An account of the years after the summer of 2012 focusing on one Fiddleford Hardon McGucket. 
> 
> This story's length is unknown even to me at this point of time but how ever long it turns out to be it will be a ride I hope y'all enjoy.

Fiddleford watched the plane take off with a sad smile on his face. He knows his friends probably cannot see him through the airport’s window but he still waves at the aircraft as it left the terminal and headed for the runway. The people that had come to wish Stanford and Stanley good bye began to slowly move away from the window and towards the exit.

It was over, the twins were gone. It was time to head back to what was seen as normal life in Gravity Falls.

Fidds watched them before turning his attention to the two remaining people of that party, Mabel and Dipper Pines. They didn’t seem like they were ready to leave the window; Mabel had her face pressed to the glass to as if that would help her see the airplane.

Fidds was starting to wonder exactly how he was going to get home. He had ridden to the airport with the twins. He hadn’t thought of the possibility of how to get back, a small bloom of guilt creeping into his gut when he realized he had kind of expected Mabel and Dipper to bring him back to Gravity Falls. He only knew these two through Stan and Ford, they had no obligation to take him home.

His paranoid thoughts were interrupted by a hand landing on his shoulder. Slowly, Fidds let his eyes travel up the arm until he got to the face it belonged to. Dipper had moved away from the window and was smiling down at the child kindly.

 “You hungry?” Dipper asked casually, “Because I think I saw a pizza place somewhere in here.”

“What?” Fidds asked; confused over what the man was offering. He hadn’t expected the casual gesture or the question that had left the scientist’s mouth.

He wasn’t scared of Dipper, per se, he just hadn’t gotten used to the man being around when he was over at the Shack. Dipper had only been around for a couple of weeks before the end of the world began and now the Stans were gone Fidds just thought that Dipper would forget about the skinny kid his great nephews had brought over a couple a time after his return from wherever.

“I mean, if you don’t want pizza I am sure there are other places in here or something,” Dipper began, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “It is just a long drive and I don’t think we are going to make it home at a reasonable eating time.”

Fiddleford just stared up at him, even more confused on the notion on Dipper Pines offering to buy him food while the twins weren’t around. Maybe they just felt responsible for him? Or they didn’t want his father to question why they hadn’t fed him? He distantly wondered if his dad would even be home when they got back to Gravity Falls.

“Oh, I hope the boys have something to eat,” Mabel said, finally pulling herself away from the window and joining the conversation that was happening beside her. “All I saw them eat was our birthday cake and a couple of chips.”

“I am sure they will be fine,” Dipper said, though worry was creeping over his expression, “We can’t do anything about it now, anyway. We might as well feed ourselves.”

“Well, we can feed ourselves from outside eating establishments,” Mabel said, reaching to take Fidds’ hand. “These places are overpriced half the time.”

Fiddleford stared at the hand holding his, a little less surprised at the action. After just a few days of knowing the twins it was easy to see that Mabel Pines was an affectionate person; she constantly would hold his hand or one of the twins’ when they were walking down somewhere. It was just an action that was purely Mabel.

Fidds let Mabel guide him towards the baggage claim, trying to push the questions of why this was happening out of his mind and just live in the moment. This was probably going to be one of the last few moments he really interacts with the Pines family, minus the times he will probably see them around town, and he might as well just enjoy the feeling they brought him.

“So, what do you want Sweet Pea? I know there is a better pizza joint up the street but we have options being close to a city. Take a pick,” Mabel said, a smile on her face.

Fiddleford scrunched up his nose in thought as they stepped onto the escalator, trying to decide on something that probably wouldn’t be too expensive. He just frowned when he couldn’t think of anything off the top of his head.

“Or we could drive around and go to the tackiest place we see,” Dipper suggested, smiling at the both of them awkwardly when they turned their heads to look at him.

“That sounds fine to me,” Fiddleford said, glancing at Mabel.

“Yeah, good plan- wah!” Mabel let go of Fidds’ hand when she almost fell over when the stair she was standing on reached the bottom of the escalator. Fidds reaching out reflectively to balance himself but also as if to catch her before she fell.

Mabel didn’t seem to be too distressed over the near fall. The woman turned and glared at the machinery, looking ready to fight it.

“How dare you try to bring me down, technology,” she stated, her tone sounding ominous.

Dipper grabbed her arm before she could do anything to the airport’s property and pulled her towards the doors. 

“We are not letting you be banned from the airport, again.” Her brother said with a sigh, sending a smile to one of the security guards as they exited the building.

Stepping out of there was like stepping close to a busy street. Parked cars, taxis, and buses were lining the curb ready to take people away or were dropping them off at this airport. Fiddleford wondered if he had enough money in his pocket to get a taxi home, even if that money was meant to be spent at the store in Gravity Falls to get lunch food for when school started on Monday. Though he also thought it would be rude to just suddenly leave after they had offered him a ride and an early dinner.

“Where did you park the car again?” Dipper asked, stopping at the beginning of the main parking lot to look at his sister.

“Um,” Mabel hummed, glancing around the lot for the familiar blue vehicle, “Somewhere?”

She shrugged, a smile on her face clearly reading that she was sorry that the answer was unhelpful. Dipper only sighed and seemed to resign himself to his sister’s lack of memory of where they parked the car. The man using his hand to shield his eyes from the sun so he could try and spot the car.

Fiddleford did the same, noting a couple of things he had seen along the route they had taken to walk to the airport entrance.

“This way,” the boy said as he pointed in the opposite direction Dipper was facing. Dipper and Mabel sending each other a look before they shrugged and began to follow Fidds as he started to walk. Fidds only stopped to look around twice as he led them through the maze of cars before they ended up next to the beat up old car.

“Well done,” Dipper beamed, ruffling the sandy hair for the child.

“Yeah, could have been stuck here for hours looking,” Mabel grinned, taking the keys out of her purse and unlocking the driver’s side door. She opened it and unlocked the doors so the other doors could get in before getting in herself.

“It was nothin’,” Fiddleford mumbled, an embarrassed blush spreading over his cheeks as he opened the back seat door and got into the old car.

Without Stan or Ford back there, it just felt weird being in the middle seat in the back without them at his side. He took the side Ford always sat on and buckled the seat belt. Dipper got into the passenger’s side.

“Time to drive around aimlessly till we get so hungry we are forced to choose!” Mabel laughed, starting the car and shifting it into reverse as so she could back out of the parking lot.

Fiddleford laughed, punching the air with a small yeah. Her joy and enthusiasm was infectious that was for sure. Dipper even going along and laughing at his sister’s antics, though his hand was on the grip handle above the window as she began to drive out of the parking lot and onto the open highway.

“Keep an eye out for the cheesiest place possible,” Mabel said as he pulled into a new lane, “I want to be amazed by terribleness.”

* * *

“I am really amazed by the terribleness of this,” Mabel Pines said as they pulled into the restaurant. They had driven around for a good twenty minutes before Fiddleford pointed out the out of place restaurant.

“Well, you did ask for cheesy Mabel,” Dipper pointed out.

The building had seemingly been converted form an old barn into an eating establishment. The siding was a very bright red that was usually only seen in children’s books. Across the door there was a white sign that read, ‘Old McDonald’s Farm’ in bright letters with black ones under it reading family owned restaurant. Fiddleford had liked it for the hilarity of it, he was always looking for a good laugh and this place probably had a lot of things inside that he could laugh at.

A small part of him wished Stan and Ford were here to tease him over choosing the place.

“If you don’ want to go in,” Fidds said, “We can find a new place.”

“No way,” Mabel said, her eyes spotting an animal pen connected to the side of the place. “This meets my credentials for a cheesy place to eat. Let me find a parking spot and we are good to go.”

The car was parked, albeit a little crookedly and hectically, and they got out to face the badly themed restaurant.

“Five dollars says that they are dressed up like farm boys and farm girls,” Dipper said, sending a smirk to his sister.

“I’m not taking a bet that will let you win,” Mabel laughed as she took Fidds’ hand and walked up towards the doors.

A bell on the door rang as they stepped into the place and found it was exactly what they had expected from this restaurant. Fiddleford and Mabel were immediately drawn towards the side of the entrance area where a pen was set up and animals were going in and outside. A young pig snuffled around at the ground, looking for scraps on the wooden floor of the pen.

“Cute,” Mabel said, looking at the animal with starry eyes, “They would make a good companion to Waddles.”

Fiddleford nodded, more thinking along the lines that the pig was a bit small and wasn’t going to be making any good bacon any time soon.

“Think we could smuggle him home?” Mabel whispered to the boy, a smirk on her face.

“Maybe,” Fidds shrugged, trying to figure out how they were going to survive a long car trip with a young pig in the car that was stolen.

“Hey,” Dipper said, making them both turn around to look at him, “We are being seated.”

Mabel smiled innocently, like she wasn’t plotting to steal this establishments animal from under their noses. The hostess, who was indeed dressed up like a stereotypical farm girl, smile at them and lead them over to a table. The decorations in the building as a whole weren’t as loud as the outside of the building or as stereotypical as the hostess.

They got a booth near a window. Above the window on the wooden walls hung a painting of an open field of wheat at sun down. They sat down at their table; Mabel and Dipper next to each other and Fiddleford across from them. The woman handed them each a menu with a smile on her face.

“So your waiter will be John today,” she said, while pulling out some napkins from her pocket and placing them on the table next to the silverware, “And he should be out with you in no time.”

“Thank you,” Mabel said, smiling back at her. “I really like your pigtails.”

The woman laughed, though it sounded a little humorless, “You would be the first. Have a good meal.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Fiddleford said as she began to walk away. The teenager grabbed the menu she had left in front of him and flipping through it.

“Oh!” Mabel said excitedly, “They serve breakfast all day, this is great.”

Dipper rolled his eyes at his sister and scanned over the menu items carefully, the look on his face saying that he was really thinking this through. Fidds took one look at the pancake platter and was done, closing the menu and placing it on the table.

“Howdy!” A cheery voice said, the person who had spoken walking over. Fiddleford snorted at the get up the man had to wear but kept his mouth shut so he wouldn’t end up insulting their waiter.

The man crouched down next to the table and pulled out a note pad, “So, I’m John and I’ll be taking care of you today. Can I get you something to drink while you are looking over the menu?”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind a strawberry lemonade,” Mabel said with a smile.

“Coffee for me,” Dipper said, not looking up from the menu. Mabel frowned at her brother and jabbed her elbow into his side. Dipper glared at her before turning to look at the man, “Please.”

John nodded, writing it down, “Alright, and for you?”

Fiddleford glanced over the drink options, “Well seein’ as you don’ got sweet tea a pitt cola is fine by me.”

John nodded, writing down the order.

“You know kid, there isn’t really a reason for you to do the accent.”

Fiddleford snorted, smiling up at the man when he stood up again.

“Well,” Fidds said, laying his normal southern twang on thick, “You see, sir, I would turn it off if I could but sadly spendin’ most of your young life in the South does leave a good impression on the mind.”

“Oh,” John said, an embarrassed flush crossing his face, “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to-.”

“It is fine,” Fidds said, “I am used to it.”

They stared at each other, the thirteen-year-old not tearing his eyes away from the man’s gaze as they stood in awkward silence. John looked away first, tapping the notebook with his pen and putting a smile back on his face.

“Well, I’ll get your order in if that will be all.”

“French Toast sticks and some biscuits would be nice for the table,” Mabel said with a smile.

John nodded and scribbled the down before leaving them alone again.

“I am sorry for that, dear,” Mabel said, looking at Fiddleford.

The boy just shrugged, “Like I said, I am used to it. Wouldn’t believe how long it took for me to suppress some of the accent when we moved to Gravity Falls. It does sound a little strange being this far west.”

“Still no excuse for calling you out on it,” Dipper interjected, grumbling something about not leaving a tip for that.

“It really is fine, Dr. Pines.” Fiddleford insisted, feeling bad the mere accident the man had made was getting this much unhappiness from the two of them.

“Yeah, Dip-Dop,” Mabel said, placing a hand on her brother’s shoulder, “No need to skip out on the tip. I wasn’t planning on leaving one considering I am going to steal the pig.”

“What?” Dipper asked, turning to give his sister a confused look on his face.

“Nothing,” Mabel said quickly, taking her hand off her brother’s shoulder and turning back to the menu.

“Oh wow!” She said with fake enthusiasm, “They serve grits here, always wanted to try them.”

“You really don’,” Fidds said, “They need an acquired taste, one that not a lot of people actually have.”

Dipper opened his mouth to continue questioning his sister over the pig stealing comment but decided it better to drop it. He turned his attention back to the menu, squinting at it slightly as he tried to choose something.

Mabel closed her menu once sure her brother was done questioning the pig thing and winked at Fiddleford. The boy winked back, a giddy feeling filling him up at being in cohorts with Mabel Pines’ weird schemes. It almost felt the same as being a part of Lee’s prank ideas.

Dipper closed the menu and rubbed his eyes, seeming to have found what he wanted to eat for this late lunch.

“I think we are going to have to schedule an eye checkup for me,” He muttered, “Thirty years without proper eye care is starting to catch up with me.”

“Oooo,” Mabel squealed, “If you need glasses you should get matching ones to mine. We can be glasses twins! The ultimate twins!”

“I don’ think cat eye glasses are my style, Mabel.” Dipper rejected, eyeing his twin’s bejeweled cat eye glasses warily. “I think simple frames will be just fine.”

“The only Pines without glasses,” Mabel said, “becoming one of us! Come on, Fidds, chant with me. One of us. One of us.”

Fiddleford snorted, joining in with the old woman’s chant. Dipper sighed dramatically, “If I must, I cannot fight your power.”

Mabel cheered, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. The laughter only quieting when John appeared with their drinks and appetizers.

“Alright, here you all go. Coffee, strawberry lemonade and a pitt cola.”

He placed the glasses down next to their respective owner, a wary smile on her face as he placed the two plates down as well.

“So, what can I get you all for a meal?”

“Well, I’ll have the pancake platter,” Mabel said, “With scrambled eggs and could you put some chocolate sauce on the top?”

“Um,” John said, “I can see about it?”

Mabel nodded, a smile on her face seemingly satisfied with the answer.

“Bacon and scrambled eggs for me,” Dipper said, a small smile sent up to the man before he turned away.

John nodded, turning his attention of Fiddleford.

“Pancake platter as well,” the boy said, “But hash browns instead of eggs if you could.”

“Alright,” John said, finishing writing down the order. “So I have down two pancake platters, one with chocolate sauce and scrambled eggs the other with hash browns, and a Bacon and eggs.”

They nodded, in confirmation that it was the correct order and John closed the book. He sent a quick thank you and took up the menus. The man walked off without saying another word to put in the order.

Mabel grabbed a French toast stick and dipped it into the syrup that came with it; a grin on her face as she took a bite of the sweet treat.

“So,” Dipper said, now that the menus were gone the distraction wasn’t there. Talking seemed to be the only option to avoid awkward silence while they waited.

“Are you excited for school to start?” He asked, directing the question at Fiddleford.

Fidds shrugged, messing with the napkin that wrapped up his utensils, “I guess. I like school but I really am not too excited for this year.”

“Yeah,” Mabel said, slide the French toast plate closer to herself, “I get that. Eighth grade was fun and all but it also kind of made you realize you are growing up and all that. Even if you like school summer ending is never fun.”

Fiddleford nodded, reaching to take one of the French toast sticks before the woman ate them all.

“I am sure this is just first day jitters,” Dipper said, “This is the last year of middle school; I am sure you will be fine once it starts.”

“I guess,” Fidds shrugged, “Just it feels different this year. Like something has changed.”

“Well,” Dipper said, “This summer hasn’t really been your standard one. I think you may be feeling this because you have changed yourself; there is no going back to the old normal. You have to live with the now normal.”

Mabel stared at her brother, eyes narrowed a little behind her glasses. “That made sense but also didn’t, I hope you know that,” she said after a long awkward silence.

“Well,” Dipper said, ready to explain the words he had just said, “What I mean by that is-.”

“No,” Fidds said, shaking his head, “I get it. There is no going back to normal as I knew it before this summer.”

Dipper nodded, “See, he got my point.”

Mabel rolled her eyes, “At least someone does. Now let us get out of the sad topic of school and changing and go onto how we are going to smuggle a sizable young pig out of there and into our car.”

“I am not letting you steal a pig, Mabel!”

* * *

Fiddleford hadn’t tried to fall asleep on the drive back to Gravity Falls but when one is leaning against the warmth of a young pig and the radio is playing soft music one finds it easy to fall asleep while driving across barely changing scenery. The only reason the boy had woken up at all was because the car had stopped and his body had alerted him that something had changed.

Sleepy blue eyes tried to open but he found it difficult to do such a thing with the weight of the day’s excitement still weighing down on him. He hugged the pig he was leaning on closer and tried to fall back to sleep, ignoring the sound of the car door opening.

Fidds let out a small noise of protest when his seat belt was removed and he was untangled from the pig. A tired blue eye opening to glare at the person that dared move him away from the animal and gently pull him from the car.

“Sorry,” Dipper whispered, “Just go back to sleep.”

Fiddleford seemed to take the old man’s advice, his arms wrapping around Dipper’s neck loosely as the man began to walk. The sound of the crickets and bird songs filled the air around them as they moved; a light being shined at just the right angle to disturbed the sleeping boy made Fidds bury his face in Dipper’s shoulder to shield himself from it; glasses being knocked up to rest on his forehead.

Distantly, Fidds wondered where he was or where they were going but he also felt he didn’t really care too much.

The sound of a muffled doorbell mixed with the sounds of the summer evening as Dipper stood with the child in his arms. Half a minute passed before Dipper knocked on something wooden, what Fiddleford could only guess was a door.

Slowly, his sleep riddled mind made the connection of where they were and he dragged himself away from the siren’s call to sleep to lift his head and confirm his suspicions.

“Key’s under the mat, Dr. Pines,” he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Dipper looked down at the mat he was standing on before he looked at the door again.

“Well, if no one answers we are just going to head back to the Shack,” the man said as he knocked for the third time.

A light went on in the window and noise could be head behind the door. A lock clicked and the door slowly opened to find Tate McGucket standing there.

“Yes?” The man said, rubbing his eyes.

“I am bringing your son home,” Dipper said, though he pulled Fidds a little closer to him, “Unless you are busy I can bring him back tomorrow.”

“No, no,” Tate said, eyes hidden back under his hair, “Sorry ‘bout that, just fell asleep waiting. Didn’ know when y'all would be back.”

“It is alright,” Dipper said, reluctantly setting Fiddleford down.

The boy moved into the house and passed his father easily.

“Thank you, Dr. Pines,” Fidds said.

“Yes,” Tate said, “For takin’ him with you to wish them off.”

“It was no trouble,” Dipper said and sent a smile down at Fidds. “Have a good evening.”

“You too,” Tate replied and closed the door as Dipper turned away to head back to the car. The man sighing and looking down at his son.

The boy was rubbing his eyes with a tired look on his face.

“I didn’ expect you to come home so late,” Tate said.

“Sorry,” Fidds yawned, “We stopped to get somethin’ to eat and got a little side tracked on the way home.”

His father sighed, ruffling the messy sandy hair lovingly.

“It is okay,” his father said, “You head to bed. We have to go get your school supplies tomorrow and get you on a better sleeping schedule.”

Fidds gave his dad a hug, “Night, Pa.”

“Night Fidds,” Tate said.

Fidds smiled up at his father before he scampered off down the hall to his room. He hadn’t expected the man to be home but he wasn’t complaining. Maybe things were changing for the better.


	2. Nothing Has Changed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still going slow but it is not given up. 
> 
> (These chapters are unedited so you are welcome to point out errors)

The gentle ease of waking up usually gave dreams that barely made much sense. Sometimes they were based off the last thing you thought as you drifted off to sleep and sometimes they were just random things as your imagination ran wild. Fiddleford's dream took the form of a memory and it was not a happy one.

_“Stanley! Please, you can’t stay here! This isn’t your home; we need you.”_

_“The Great Empire of Stanley the Great is my home now…and if you can’t see that then both you are better off leaving.”_

_“STA-!”_

Fiddleford found himself waking up with a pounding heart and a sense of fear wash over him. The young teen was not quite sure what had brought the sense of fear over him. The fleeting ghosts of the memory still circling in his head. The bright colors, the bad 50s sitcom laughing, the pirates; it was almost like he had traveled back into that bubble.

The bubble that could give him whatever he wanted.

He shook his head to chase that longing thought away. All that was over and done now; it was no use to dwell on the past. The boy rubbed his hands over his face and gave a small sigh.

“It’s all in the past.” He told himself that despite it barely being a week between that event and the now he lived in, “It already happened and they are both safe. We are all safe.”

He repeated this to himself as he grabbed his glasses off the bed side table. With his sight fixed by the small windows of glass he looked around the room; the paranoia and fear had a hold on his mind still. It was the same as the day they moved into this small house; even after all that had happened.

The walls were the basic beige and he had tried to brighten the room by covering it with posters of things he liked. T.V shows, games, and inventors gave the plain basic walls some semblance of life. Fidds slipped from the bed and stepped over some scrap metal he had left lying on the floor. He pushed it under the bed with his foot where it would join the other scraps and be forgotten until another mad idea popped into his head.

He stepped out into the quiet hallway and moved automatically to the bathroom.

The reflection of himself gave him a little bit of a startle before he just gave a tired glare to it. The glare was all little useless seeing how his bangs were covering his eyes from view. Fidds pushed back his hair to uncover his glasses and sighed.

“I need a haircut.”

He estimated how much that would be as he grabbed his toothbrush from the holder and began to wet it. Maybe he could get his dad to drop him off at the barber shop after they were done school shopping. Just a fast trim to get it out of his eyes and then he could head on his way.

Fidds kept to his musings as he put the toothpaste on the brush. He started to brush his teeth as he heard someone begin to walk down the hallway. He hadn’t heard the front door shut so it was strange to hear such a thing; his father usually wouldn’t be awake at this time unless he had been working late and just got in.

The teen peaked his head out of the bathroom just as Tate was coming down the hall. The man was dressed in his pajamas and looked half-asleep as he rubbed his face.

“Pa?”

The man stopped on his journey to look at the kid standing in the doorway to the bathroom. Dark hair fell back over Tate’s eyes as he removed the hand from over his eyes. Not a look that Fidds really understood seeing how it made the world harder to see and jobs harder to do but he never questioned it.

“What are you doin’ up?”

Tate gave his son a confused look.

“We have things to do today.”

The man said the words as if they were obvious. Fidds only became more confused by it. Sure, they had to go out and get his school supplies but that could have waited till later. It was still pretty early even on his standards.

“We do?”

“Yes,” Tate said. The man seemed to be waking up more with this question and answer session with the young teenager.

“We have to get breakfast, then your school supplies, stuff for lunches and meals for you to eat during the week. I want to start early in case I am called into work unexpectedly.”

Tate listed off these things quickly and efficiently while numbering them off with his fingers. Fiddleford took in this information slowly. All he got from it was that he would practically get half the day with his father.

“Could we squeeze a hair cut in there for me?”

His father frowned and seemed to think it over in his head before giving a small nod. Fidds knew that look; it was the one that showed he was going over their money for the month in his head. Certain times of the year they were tight and this was one of them just because they had to buy school supplies and stock up on food.  

“Long as it is a trim,” Tate reluctantly agreed.

Fidds grinned wide and went back to brushing his teeth. It was a small victory and it added more possible time to being around his father.

“Hurry up and get ready,” his dad yawned, “We can stop at the diner for breakfast.”

Tate started his journey down the hall again when Fidds gave him an understanding nod.

The teen watched his father slowly make his way out of the hall and into the kitchen. He gave a small sigh and brushed his teeth a little quicker. His father was probably on look out for a quick pot of coffee to get enough energy to drive to the diner. Too bad he was going to have to make it himself; Fidds hadn’t gotten to that part of the morning routine yet.

Fiddleford finished brushing his teeth in a pace that would have his dentist screaming in protest and how it was bad teeth care. The boy hurrying back to his room to route through his clothing until he found a shirt that wasn’t too dirty and shorts.

The teen threw off the pajama shirt and slipped on the clothes. He was practically hopping on one foot as he made his way down the hall while trying to put his sneakers on. The teen smiled when the stubborn footwear finally slipped on and moved into the kitchen.

Tate was leaning against the counter and drinking a cup of coffee; still in his pajamas. When he saw his son already dressed and ready to go he seemed to stare in confusion for a second before laughing.

“You that excited to go out school shopping?”

Fidds rolled his eyes and gave a small smirk, “Always. Don’t you know school is my favorite thing in the world?”

The sarcasm fell on deaf years as his father laughed again and took another sip from the mug.

“Give me enough time to finish this and then we can head out.”

Fiddleford sighed dramatically but he guessed he could allow his dad to fuel for the short drive to the diner. He just had to find something to do while he waited.

He walked back to his room and started to route through the scrap metal that he had lying around on the floor. His current project had just ended with a small explosion so he was back to the drawing board. He would start to rebuild it but welding in the house had become forbidden after he almost burnt the place down. That and Ms. Chui did not advise it.

The teen groaned and listened for the sound of his father’s feet coming down the hall to head towards the other bedroom in the house but that sound did not appear. He gave another dramatic sound and fell back onto his bed in a huff; his arms splayed out and one hitting something hard.

He lifted his head to find his laptop laying at the bottom of the bed where he lay.

“That could work,” he mumbled to himself as he sat up.

He grabbed the laptop and booted it up. A smile appearing seeing the gigantic line of messages coming from the video chat app starting from yesterday at about one in the morning.

 **Stan-and-Stan:** Fidds

 **Stan-and-Stan:** Fidds

 **Stan-and-Stan:** Fidds

 **Stan-and-Stan:** Fidds

 **Stan-and-Stan:** Fidds

 **Stan-and-Stan:** Fidds

 **Stan-and-Stan:** FIDDLEFORD ARE YOU DEAD!?!?!

 **Stan-and-Stan:** I THINK YOU ARE DEAD!?! WHY DOES IT SAY YOU ARE ONLINE IF YOU ARE DEAD!?!

 **Stan-and-Stan:** FORD SAYS HE MISSES YOU SO MUCH AND IS CRYING BUCKETS OF PAIN FOR HIS LOGIBDSNFLKHBGDNSLKGBSKDJF

 **Stan-and-Stan:** Fidds, don’t believe anything this liar is typing out. Considering I don’t know if I can delete messages on here.

The messages went on from there describing their jet lag and how they really couldn’t sleep. Stanley, or he was assuming it was Stanley, had typed out a detailed description of the flight back to New Jersey which included every single cloud he saw and what shape they all were. There were a few spelling errors in the messages but Fidds didn’t mind. He was happy that the twins had got home safe and sound.

The last few messages ended around three am for him. Fiddleford assumed they were from Stanford as the spelling errors had seemed to stop and they were more about the video games Fidds had given Stanford for the long flight.

The last message was a bidding of goodnight and a promise to talk tomorrow when hopefully they all would be online. Talking before school was even a suggestion but the southerner doubted that it would get anywhere with the time difference.

He quickly typed up a message to the twins.

 **Fiddlesticks:** You guys sure do talk a lot when normal people are sleeping. Yes, I was sleeping Stanley. Not dead. Gonna have to tell you guys about the pig I helped your great aunt steal. That was weird. Hah. Miss you guys a lot.

He paused a moment and read the last sentence over and over again. He considered deleting it. It wasn’t like it wasn’t true but was it weird to tell them that he missed them before a day had passed.

Fidds didn’t get much time to mull over if he should send the message or not when he heard his father moving back down the hall towards his own room. Fidds hit the send button on the message and closed his laptop down.

“Finally,” he breathed and slipped off the bed.

The teen almost tripped over his shoe laces as he made his way out of the room to stand by the doorway and wait for his father to be done changing. He tapped his sneaker covered foot impatiently. The antsy teen searching his short’s pockets to make sure he had the list of things he needed for school and some extra cash.

“Ants in your pants?”

The sudden appearance from his father made the boy jump and the crumpled up ball of the list fall from his pocket. The man next to him laughed and picked up the list for his son and handed it back to him.

“Sorry. Didn’ mean ta scare ya.”

“It’s fine,” Fidds replied sheepishly and stuffed the paper back into his pocket. He looked up at his father with a smile and pushed off the feeling of embarrassment that wanted to consume him from that little slip.

“Breakfast now?” Fidds asked and his smile got wider at the nod of approval.

“Breakfast now.”

Fidds gave a small cheer and hurried out the door toward the old truck that was parked in the driveway. His father laughing at the excitement as he grabbed his keys and locked the house up before following the excited child.

* * *

When one is driving through Gravity Falls as a town it is hard to see that there had been anything wrong with it. It looked like any regular town that was off the beaten path. With a main street that was covered in small private owned shops and happy people walking up and down the street. It would be hard to tell any outsider that this town had been turned into the scene from an apocalypse movie just a week ago.

Fiddleford couldn’t get that out of his mind as he stared out the window of the diner at the passing people in the sleepy town of Gravity Falls. The ‘Never-Mind-All-That’ act did prohibit the talk of the event that had transpired over the past week but it didn’t chase out the memories.

Did not change how the very booth he and his father were sitting in had been a pile of rubble a few days ago. It did not change that the street had been destroyed and covered in debris. It did not change that he had led a bunch of lost people to the one place that was safe from the chaos.

“Fiddleford.”

His father’s voice snapped him from his thoughts and brought him back to the reality of the here and now. The sky wasn’t painted in that terrifying red. There was no prison bubble that needed to be popped. Everyone was safe. Bill was gone. He was safe.

“Y-yeah?”

Fidds’ voice wavered as he tried to put a smile on his face to push off the memories.

“Got something on your mind?” Tate asked as he finished off his pancakes, “You barely touched your waffles.”

The teenager looked at the breakfast food that was in front of him to find his father’s words to be true. The butter had completely melted and soaked into the golden crust of the waffles along with the syrup he had generously poured onto the food when it had arrived.

“Nah, I just got caught up in a new design for a bot is all.”

The boy shrugged off his father’s question with a well-placed lie. Tate did not pick up on his son’s lie anyway. The man just taking what the child said as true and finished his coffee.

“Well, think about it after you are done eating.”

“Yes, Pa.”

Fidds cut up the waffles carefully and started to eat them. The soaked up syrup had made the crunchy surface of the waffle soggy and very sweet. He pushed through it so not to waste money and the fact he was hungry. The teen glanced up at his father to see the man texting someone on his phone. Probably a job; usually it was work if his father was on the phone.

“So,” Tate broke the silence and out his phone out of sight, “I was thinking we head to the department store first to get your school supplies then head over to get the groceries so the cold things don’t thaw.”

Fidds finished the last of his waffles and pushed the plate aside so he could finish off the drink.

“What about my hair? Won’t the cold stuff get thawed while you’re waiting for me?”

Tate just stared at his son. A look that Fidds had learned was one that meant his father had forgotten about that early morning arrangement. The teen didn’t take it to heart as he had brought it up before the man had drunken a cup of coffee and was fully aware of the world around him.

“Oh,” Tate said the words slowly as the memory slowly came back, “Oh right. Yes. I guess I can drop you off at the barber’s and take the food home. I don’t want you to not have anything for lunch and dinner while I am working.”

Fiddleford took it as he would be walking home after he got his hair cut. He could live with that.

“Yeah, alright.”

The teenager downed the drink and wiped the crumbs off his clothes from his fast eaten breakfast. Tate stood up and headed over to the counter to pay Grenda what was owed for the meal. Fiddleford slipped out of the booth while he waited for his dad to be done and watched as a limo drove by on the road.

The first thought that came to his mind when he saw it was Preston. The rich kid was probably driving around just for the fun of it before the school opened up again. The thought of school brought his mood down from the excitement of spending a day with his dad. Another year of barely any friends, bullies, and just all over a slow learning system he could easily surpass if he was given the chance.

“Fiddleford.”

The sound of his name being called broke him from the mood dampening thoughts. He looked up at his father and gave a smile like nothing was bothering him.

“Come on,” Tate ushered the teen out of the diner.

Fidds made sure to give a wave back to Grenda and make sure the woman understood that he appreciated the meal. His dad held the door open for him so they could both slip out easily without the diner’s bell ringing twice.

They walked over to the old truck and got in. They pulled out back onto the old road and moved down the street towards the store. Fidds watched as they passed the happy patrons of this busy Sunday on the second of September.

“You got the list?”

His dad asked as he pulled into the store’s parking lot. Fiddleford gave a nod and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket.

“Yep.”

“Then let’s go.”

Fidds slipped from the car and was halfway to the store when he realized that his father wasn’t beside him. The man was on his phone and having a rushed conversation with whoever was on the other line. It was a clear sign that today’s little shopping excursion would not be going as planned.

 He didn’t even let his father give him that apologetic frown as the man hung up the phone. Fiddleford just forced a smile onto his face and rocked back on his heels.

“I get it. You got called in,” Fidds said before his dad could try and explain the situation to him.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

 _“You never do,”_ Fiddleford thought to himself bitterly.

“I get it. You got to head to work,” is that the boy said out loud as his father pulled out the worn wallet and handed over some bills.

“Get your school supplies and the haircut,” Tate rushed and checked his watch to see what time it was, “I will try and pick up groceries on the way home.”

Fidds counted the bills he was handed and added it with the cash he had in his pocket. He would have to get some of the cheaper notebooks but he could deal with that. Maybe he could just combine everything into one binder and organize them by subject.

When Fiddleford looked up from his musings and putting the money in his pocket he found the parking lot one car empty. He tried not to let it get to him that his father had left without saying goodbye. Maybe he had said the usual passing phrase and he had missed it while lost in his thoughts.

With a deep breath Fiddleford turned and entered the store alone like countless Back to School shopping days before.

* * *

The September sun was far past the halfway mark in the sky when the teenager got back to his home. The cheap plastic of the bags from his school shopping was straining and his pockets were a little bit emptier than when he had been left in front of the store.

Fiddleford had to admit he spent a little more than he had intended to. The science pun covered notebooks had been the death of him when he spotted them in the store. There were just two nagging voices in the back of his head telling him to get them after he spotted them that the cheap plain ones could not compete with his childish desires.

He set the bags down on the front porch and searched his pockets for his keys. A spall spark of panic ran through him when he could not find them in his pockets but it was quenched quickly when he remembered he put them in one of the shopping bags for better keeping. He really needed to just keep them hooked onto a belt loop of his shorts and not move them around.

Fidds searched the bags for his keys and pulled them out with a triumphant grin. The house key being a little stubborn after he put it in the lock and tried to turn it. He was going to have to see why their front door lock was sticking again.

The boy turned the key with all his strength to finally get the door unlocked. He tried to make it look like he almost hadn’t fallen into the entry way.

“I’m home!” He called uselessly into the empty space as he kicked the door closed behind him.

He did not wait for the nonexistent answer from the parent that was not there. Fidds just hummed a tune to himself as he carried the bags to his room and put them down on the desk. He looked at the tool box and considered going to fix the lock but after the long walk back to his house he really was not feeling like attempting to fixing the old lock for the fifth time.

Probably was going to have to go buy a new lock and replace it. He wrote that as a note for himself and made sure it was in an easy to see place for next time he had to go out.

Fiddleford looked at the bags again and gave a small sigh. He could start getting his things together for tomorrow but that seemed like unnecessary work. He could do it later tonight.

“T.V. and a soda it is,” he said aloud to himself and left the messy room to head to the kitchen.

He entered the kitchen and opened the fridge to look at the mostly empty shelves.

“Water it is then.”

He closed the fridge and went to get a cup of water for himself. He almost stopped with the action to write a note to stick on the fridge for himself to remember to pick up groceries when coming home from school tomorrow if his father forgot to.

The teen settled onto the couch with a sigh and flicked on the television so it filled the quiet house with noise. It almost made the lonely feeling that had creeped into his heart disappear; almost. Almost filled made him feel like this was how it should be.

After all, it was a typical last day of summer. Home alone and buying what he needed himself. Nothing had been different. Nothing had changed.


	3. Don't Let The Rain Get You Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I tried to go against what I had plotted out and then I lost my notebook with all the plot points written down but I got this out. 
> 
> I am attempting to make this story have long chapters but be quick paced in the fact that the chapters are their own mini-stories. The goal is to get to age 16 so we have 3 years to cover. (Very slow journey ahead)
> 
> Again, sorry for the delay

September had fully settled in on the small town of Gravity Falls. Gone was the last remains of the summer heat, the green leaves, and the leisure that came from the wonderful time of the year. Parents were back to their jobs if they had taken time off and children were back in school to educate themselves to become the next generation of adults.

Fiddleford found the whole concept of school rather boring and sometimes a little slow but when it came to the start of the year it was worthless to skip days. He needed to settle into the flow, figure out what classes he could skip a few days in, and learn when he would have to walk home on his own.

The boy sat on the grass outside the school. It was almost an hour after the last class had let out and his father had promised to come and pick him up. He was hesitant to get up and start the walk home in case the man showed up but he was getting that side eyed look from the teacher that was supposed to watch the car line. The lady probably had been things to do then hang out at Gravity Falls Middle School with a lonely eighth grader.

Fidds pulled up a few more strands of grass before he stood up and brushed off the loose dirt. He was not going to be the reason this lady stood around for hours. The teen pulled his bookbag back onto his back and slowly started to head towards the main road so he could head into town. It was a long walk from the middle school to his house; he would have to be quick to make it there before it got too dark.

The woman said nothing as he started off alone. Maybe some part of Fiddleford wanted her to tell him to stay, that he did not have to walk alone, or maybe even offer him a ride. That part was delusional; he understood that. He had gotten this far in life with very little help from anyone and he would continue to do that.

The young teen started to hum a song to himself as he walked away from the school and back towards town. The little tune was there to keep his thoughts at bay. He was sure that his father had just forgotten and that it was not some terrible accident that had prevented his pickup. He was sure there was no terrible accident that would have hurt his father terribly.

Fiddleford’s pace picked up as he moved towards the town faster; his little heart picked up speed.

“Shouldn’t think like that,” he muttered to himself quietly, “Shouldn’t think like that. Pa is fine. Bet he just had to work late, is all.”

Fiddleford’s feet moved faster.

“Probably will be home before me at the rate I am walking.”

He was practically jogging at this point. The main town was getting closer.

“Probably…probably worrying over nothing,” he whispered to himself as he broke into a sprint.

His feet smacked down into the pavement as he tried to get to town faster. Once he was in town he could take the quickest route home and he could stop this kind of worry. His lungs burned from the activity and the added weight of his back pack.

The weight of the books moving around with every hurried step was his down fall. The poor teenager lost his balance and tripped over his own foot so he was sent down onto the concrete. The sting of the scrapes the hard surface left on his hands and knees made his eyes water. His glasses happily stayed put on his nose.

He forced back the tears and sat up slowly; the dumb back pack almost sending him falling backwards like a turtle. Today was just not his day it seemed.

Fiddleford observed the little dots of red that had started to appear in the pink scrapes. Dirt that had gotten wedged between the skin had started to get soaked with blood. A splotch of water fell onto his palms and Fidds watched it as it slowly ran down the crevices and fell from his hand.

Thunder rumbled above him as two more drops fell onto his scraped palms. He looked up at the rumble to find the sky had gone dark and a rain cloud had started to cover the sky.

The sense of dread and worry had started to change into anger. The anger did not last as it settled into a dull numbness as more drops of water landed on him. He pushed himself back onto his feet with a grimace as more dirt got wedged into his scraped palms.

The rain fall started to come down faster as he ran down the side-walk. The sky just seemed to get darker and darker as he hurried down the side-walk and rain began to stream down his glasses. The water obscured his vision and made the journey much harder than it should have been.

The teenager stumbled to a stop when a bright light blinded him and the sound of a car came to his attention. He expected the vehicle to get right past him but it stopped just a little behind him. A bubble of hope spread in Fidds’ heart that it was his father. That he had worried over nothing and that the man had just gotten caught up at work and had rushed to get him from the middle school.

A person got out of the car and he heard the pattering of rain drops on an umbrella. The teen’s heart started to pound in excitement and hope as the rain soaked through his t-shirt and drenched his hair.  

“Fiddleford?”

The voice was not his father’s and he felt one of the few threads of hope he had shrivel up and die in his heart.

“Miss…Miss Pines?”

The figure came over and put the umbrella over his head. Mabel Pines stood over him with a rainbow umbrella. The rain that had started to drench him suddenly stopped falling on him as the woman got close enough to hold the umbrella over the two of them.

“What are you doing out here in this weather?”

Fiddleford stared down at his shoes and noticed the red that was running down his bare legs with the rain water.

“Walking home from school.”

Mabel frowned. The woman checked her watch and frowned, “At this time? I thought the middle school got out sooner.”

Fiddleford shivered as thunder once again shook the earth. It was louder this time so it meant that soon they would be seeing the flashes of lightening.

“I stayed after,” Fidds shrugged, “I didn’ know it was going to rain.”

“Doesn’t mean that you should be walking around in this storm,” Mabel said seriously, “You could get sick or lost or…” Mabel waved her hand around in a vague gesture, “My point is your father should have come to pick you up.”

Fiddleford shrugged again and looked down the sidewalk.

“I’ve walked home a lot before in the rain. This ain’t that big of a deal.”

A bright flash lit the sky and thunder followed it not a second after. Fiddleford put his hands over his ears at the noise. The circle of shelter the umbrella had created was starting to lose its purpose as the wind picked up with the rain drops. The water splashed at the two people from either side.

Mabel put her arm around the boy to shelter him and started to lead him to the car.

“Well, I am not going to be another person to leave you out in this storm.”

“Miss Pines, you don’t got to do nothing. I am fine with walking.”

“Look, pumpkin, we are either going to get in the car to avoid this rain or we are going to stand out in this storm until it passes. You only have these two options.”

Fiddleford frowned and looked down at his bleeding knees. The scabs had started to form over the dirt and other things that had been on the sidewalk. The storm around them had started to pick up the intensity so when the rain it the ground is splattered onto their legs. With the stubbornness of Miss Mystery there was no way around it and he was not one to let an old woman stand out in a storm because he did not want help.

“Alright,” Fiddleford sighed and let Mabel lead him to her car.

There was some relief when he did get ushered into the dry interior of the old car. The feeling of misery thanks to the chilly rain had been slightly driven away but it left him shivering. He was pretty sure that when he stepped out of the car he would have glitter stuck to him just because he knew how this old woman worked after a whole summer around her.

Mabel got into the driver’s seat not a second after he had gotten into the back of the car. She closed the door and threw the wet umbrella onto the seat next to her as she looked back at him.

“There should be a towel back there somewhere,” she said as she searched the back seats messy contents with her eyes, “I don’t think I took them out after the last pool trip.”

Fiddleford nodded and looked around for a towel. He found one under an empty cardboard box and shook it out before he started to wipe off some of the water from his face. Streaks had already started to dry on his glasses’ lenses and he did his best to wipe them away.

Mabel did not turn back to face the front of the car until she was sure Fiddleford was settled and had gotten some of the water off himself. The old woman took her time to pull away from the side-walk.

Fiddleford did not seem to care that the car was headed in the opposite direction. Almost all the roads in Gravity Falls connected to each other. The town was small and practically was a loop. No matter which roads you took you would eventually end up where you wanted to go as long as you did not turn out of town.  

The teenager leaned his head against the glass window and sighed. His mind started to wander to the homework he needed to complete and he hoped that the things in his book bag had not been too damaged by the rain.  He was not tempted to sing along to the cheery tune Mabel had put on as she drove.

Fiddleford stayed in his thoughts through two songs before he noticed something off about the route Mabel was driving him. His biggest alarm being the old woman turning away from the town and onto a familiar stretch of road. The view outside the rain splattered window was barren of buildings after a few minutes and became mostly the woods. He knew this road well; it was a road he had traveled a lot during the summer.

“Um, Miss Pines,” he said slowly. Maybe she had just forgotten he was back there, “I think yer goin’ the wrong way.”

“Nope. I am pretty sure I am going the right way,” Mabel said as she turned onto a connecting dirt road.

“But my house is on the other side of town,” Fidds said nervously.

Mabel turned the music down some more as the car bumped along the muddy dirt path. “Yep and my house is right up here.”

“But, I thought you were taking me home?”

“I am,” Mabel said as she turned onto her drive way.

“I…I mean my home, Miss Pines. Not your home.”

Mabel just hummed in response as she drove the car around the Shack to the front door. Mabel continued to hum as she turned off the car. The peppy music ended quickly and the rumble of the engine ceased.

“Miss Pines,” Fiddleford protested, “I thank ya fer the ride but I can’t stay over. I got school in the morning and my Pa-.”

“Your father will understand when I call him,” Mabel cut him off as she grabbed her umbrella.

“But I don’t wanna be a bother.”

Mabel looked at him from the mirror and she sighed. The old woman carefully turned his head and put a kind smile on her face.

“Fiddleford, you could never be a bother. Just humor an old lady for tonight, I just hate the thought of you being all alone at home in this storm.”

Fidds looked down at his knees; one leg had begun to bounce nervously.

“I have been home alone lots of times during a storm,” he protested weakly. In truth, he did not like to be alone when a storm like this hit. The teen jumped when a hand rested gently on the twitchy leg.

“Please,” Mabel said softly, “Humor me?”

Fiddleford sighed and looked up at the woman hesitantly. He wanted to protest and make her take him home. He wanted his desk and robot parts. He wanted his laptop. Most of all he wanted his father.

Fidds also did not want to hurt her feelings. He had not wanted to leave her side that last day of summer. He wanted to come back to Gravity Falls and be at the Shack.

“Alright,” he sighed, “but only so you don’t got to worry.”

Mabel smiled and squeezed his knee in an affectionate gesture. “Thank you,” she said before she turned to grab the umbrella and opened her door to open it up, “I’ll come get you so you stay dry, okay?”

Fiddleford’s nod was the only confirmation she needed before the woman disappeared into the rain.

Fidds watched her as she closed the door and walked quickly around the car to his door. With the car stopped he could hear the muffled sound of the rain drops as they quickly hit the umbrella. When his door opened the sound became louder and another boom rumbled over the sky.

“Come on, Sweet Pea,” Mabel said over the sound of the rain, “Don’t want to be standing out here too long.”

Fidds did not have to be told twice. With one last check to make sure his book bag was secure, he slipped out of the car and onto the muddy ground. Mabel closed his door quickly and made sure a hand was on him as they sprinted for the covered porch.

As soon as their feet hit the wood the door opened and Dipper stood in front of them.

“There you are, Mabel. I was starting to get worried.”

“You shouldn’t worry so much, Dipper,” Mabel laughed and splashed her brother with the water on the umbrella. “I was not in any danger.”

“Well I didn’t know that,” Dipper protested as Mabel pushed past him with Fiddleford in tow, “You could have been hurt or this storm could have brought something terrible down with it.”

“Like I said, you worry too much,” Mabel sighed and hung up her umbrella.

“I worry just the right amount,” Dipper closed the door behind him as he followed them. He would have continued the sibling bickering if he had not just noticed the boy next to Mabel, “Oh, hello Fiddleford. When did you get here?”

“I’ve been here the whole time,” Fidds whispered.

Mabel took the teen’s backpack and hung it up on the hallway hooks. “Don’t mind him, dear, I think he became a little oblivious in his old age,” Mabel said, “Now you head to the bathroom and I’ll be in there with a change of clothes and something to clean your knees. Okay?”

“Yes, Miss Pines,” Fidds replied softly and turned to leave.

“And Fiddleford.”

Fidds stopped and looked back at her.

“Calling me Mabel is still perfectly okay,” she said with a kind smile.

Fiddleford sent a smile back to her as he exited the hallway and went into the bathroom. The teen closed the door softly as he could before he sat down on the floor. His smile cracked into a broken expression as he sat on the bathroom floor. It took everything in his power not to cry in the few minutes he waited for Mabel to arrive.

The poor teen almost jumped a foot into the air when there was a knock on the door behind him. He got up to his feet quickly and moved back to sit on the edge of the tub.

“Coming in,” Mabel’s voice said after the knocks and the woman entered. “I brought some cool band-aids and one of the sweaters the boys left.”

“Thanks,” Fidds said. He hoped that his voice was not too emotionless. The teen did not want her to think he was not grateful for what she was doing.

Mabel did not seem to take note in the change of tone as she started to put something onto a cotton ball. “It’s no problem,” she said happily, “Now let’s see what the damage is.”

With a small crack from her knees and a groan, the woman kneeled in front of Fiddleford and looked at the scrapes on his knees. She gave a soft hum and then nodded with a serious expression on her face.

“These are going to take the special band-aids.”

“Special band-aids?” Fidds asked but he got no answer to the question.

“This is going to sting,” was all Mabel said before she began to dab whatever was on the cotton ball onto the first cut.

Fidds hissed in pain and held tightly to the bathtub.

“So,” Mabel said casually as she got a new cotton ball and started to clean the other knee, “Dipper is getting some soup heated up on the stove for us. I hope you don’t mind that for dinner but I haven’t had the chance to go grocery shopping yet. Was supposed to today but me and the girls got a little side tracked.” She laughed at the last statement and looked over her work.

“That’s fine,” Fidds said, “I don’t mind some soup.”

Mabel held out a hand for him and it took a moment before Fiddleford understood. After he was sure his feet were planted firmly on the ground he gave her his hand so it could be disinfected.

“You sure?” She asked, “I can see if we have any leftover pizza in the fridge or some pasta in the cupboard if you would want that.”

“I am sure, Miss Pines. Soup sounds good right now.”

Mabel sighed dramatically as she dapped the stinging liquid onto his injured palm.

“Alright, way to help me get something fun to eat,” she teased. After a moment, she motioned for the other hand and cleaned it carefully with a new cotton ball.

“Just let this dry some and then we can get them all blinged out.”

Fidds rested his hands in his lap and watched as Mabel cleaned up the cotton ball mess. He wanted to ask what she meant but that but decided it best to stay silent. There was a lot of things that did not make sense about Madam Mystery. He was just going to have accept this as something that he would not get until it happened.

He soon got his answer when the woman held out man different band-aid boxes. There were super hero ones, princess ones, rainbow ones, different shaped ones, and some he had never even seen in stores before. His eyes widened behind his glasses as he looked them all over.

“Special band-aids for a special kid. Choose whichever you want,” Mabel explained, “But you should know that the rainbow ones got bigger band-aids then some of the other ones.”

Fiddleford stared at the different options silently and then looked back up at her. He just did not understand it. She was nice to him all summer but that was because the twins were his friends. This woman had no reason to take care of him like this.

He looked back at the boxes and grabbed the rainbow ones. Mabel seemed to grin at the choice.

“I was hoping you would choose that box. Those are my favorite,” she said as she set the others down, “I just hope Stan didn’t steal all the heart ones before he left.”

“Even if he did I wouldn’t mind,” Fiddleford said as he opened the box and began to search through it, “I just want two big enough to cover up my knee.”

The teen did find a heart one as he searched the box for two rectangles. He was surprised by how large it was. The oddly shaped bandage would easily fit over the larger scrape on his right palm. Mabel helped him stick the bandages over his wounds and seemed to hum in approval.

“Now just one more thing before I can let you get changed,” the woman said.

Before Fidds could ask what that was a sticker was stuck into the middle of the heart on his right palm. It was a circle and in the middle of it was a cartoon drawing of butter with the words ‘Get Butter Soon’ around it. The middle schooler could not help but to smile at it.

“Now it should heal faster,” Mabel stated matter-of-factly before she stood up with a small groan. “Welp, I will let you change. Just follow the smell of terrible Dipper cooking when you are ready.”

“Alright,” Fidds said and slid off his seat. “Thank you, Miss Mabel.”

“Any time, Sugar.” Mabel opened the door and smiled back at him, “Any time.” With those last words, she left him alone in the bathroom.

Fiddleford looked down at the punny sticker on his hand and smiled at it. There was just something about it, other than the terrible joke, that made him smile like it was the best thing he had ever been given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is still a very unedited story. If you see any mistakes please point them out politely so I can correct them.


End file.
